


Don't Look At The Beast

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Creepypasta, Dysfunctional Family, Open to Interpretation, Other, unseen fear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:11:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't look at *. Trust me when I say so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Look At The Beast

‘’If you hear anything, keep your eyes closed no matter what. Ok honey?’’

Mom always asked, every night after she gave me my pills. She turned off the light before she closed door. I lied in my bed, keeping my eyes forcefully shut, as a waited to fall asleep. It was always like this, every night. I don’t remember when it all began, but mom tells me that it began when I got my room. Strange thing would happen at night, really freaky things. A little while after my mom left, I could hear a sudden radio static, loud and borderline painful. The static would continue for what felt like an agonizing eternity, only to be followed mom and dad fighting downstairs. Glass would break, doors would be slammed so hard that the whole house would shake a little. However the scary thing was that their voices were emitted as if they were heard from a radio, and here the static began. Dad would say things like ‘’It’s your fault that we now got a little * in our house! Don’t you understand that it’s tearing us all apart?’’ and mom would say “Don’t think I’m stupid! I know the problem at hand here, and that’s why i’m doing my best to protect our son from *!”. Dad grew even angrier “Well, then you’ve done your best, worse! My son is not going to * because of * and your laziness!”

Mom would scream on top of her lungs ”Then what do you expect me to do about *?! It’s not even from ****”

“Wake up, idiot! * is *! It’s just ***************"

Static.

And suddenly the noise stopped.

A while later, I heard a low growl, coming from somewhere around the room. The growl grew louder and louder, almost to the point  of it sounding like the growl came from right beside my ear. Or rather in my head. Like the beast was daring me to open my eyes. Tempting me. Threatning me.

 But I kept my eyes shut. I couldn’t afford to do otherwise.

Scratching came from the window, a long terrifying noise. Like long claws scraping slowly on the glass.

The growling grew more beastly and the static came back. Mixing all the sounds made a horrifying soundtrack. Every night my sleep and dreams were haunted by the cries.

Yet my eyes were shut.

After a little while, the horrid sound died down slowly.

However heavy footsteps, trampled slowly around my bet.

A pair of now-familiar hand suddenly placed themselves around my neck. Rough and unaturally large, they were squeezing tightly, barely enough for me to pant, struggling for survival. The grip grew tighter and tighter. At some point they would let go, however this time they prolonged the time strangling me.

Afraid of death, I opened my eyes. My heart beating out of control.

What faced me was a horrible vision. My blood ran cold.

A pair of blood-crying eyes that resembled a human’s was starring right at me. The pupils were blue and filled with absurd satanic symbols of blasphemy.

I shut my eyes again, but it was no use. A horrific scream, louder than anything I have ever heard in my entire life. It sounded like thousands of people being murdered in agony, all at once. Yet a sensation of demonic glee had a undertone. 

\---

When I awoke the next morning, I was met with a disturbing imagery. M room was a complete mess, everything was destroyed, the window had blood stains and claw marks, the floor was stained with bloody footsteps on my pillow; a large spot of blood was. The only thing remotely intact was my mirror, near the window.

My mom kicked the door in; she looked like as if she had been crying for a long time. Perhaps she also had a visit from the beast.

 

“You looked at *, didn’t you”      

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Little short story based on a dream I had last night. Not really a creepypasta, but it could happen.


End file.
